


In the Woods Somewhere

by Mareridt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween Special, In the woods somewhere - Hozier, Lyrics in the fic, Maybe with some gore, Song Inspired, Song fic, Stiles in the woods, but not so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareridt/pseuds/Mareridt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moon couldn't help him down there; he was alone, exposed and vulnerable in front of whatever was hiding behind the trees. He tried to see something behind them, but nothing was visible. The night was so black, that his fears came alive, and the darkness hummed around him eerie rustles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Woods Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my version of the Halloween special. I got this idea, this inspiration, by listening to “In the woods somewhere”, a song played by Hozier. You should listen to it while reading this!

 

 

_My head was warm,_   
_My skin was soaked._   
_I called your name 'til the fever broke._

 

“Scott”, that was the only word he could repeat in his mind. Thinking had never been so hard in his life. His eyelids trembled, his eyes moving fervently under them, searching peace and finding fear. His mind in haze, he barely could keep his senses alert. No, he could not. He didn't have energies, nor willing, he wished he could turn back into the darkness and forget everything was clutching his guts in a heinous grip.

“Scott”, he thought again, irrationaly, and his mouth motioned every letter. Who was Scott? Why did his dry, chapped lips keep forming that word, that name? He needed to know, he _had to_. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't feel his own body. His eyelids were heavy, his head was as numb as his body. He needed to move, but he could not. A sudden breeze freshed his face and neck, and he knew he was soaked to the skin, goose bumps crippling him in waves through him.

“Scott”, his voice now reached his own ears, and he tried to move again. A strange tingle rested in his limbs, making every move extremely painful. But he turned on his stomach, and his head spinned around. His head was warm, his cheeks scorching with fever, but a painful coldness chilled him down to the bones. He had to stand up, to find whoever was Scott, he didn't have time to wait for the fever to break. He knew it was important. But as soon as he tried to raise himself on his hands and open his eyes, a new wave of pain forced him on the ground, whimpering and cringing.

“Scott”, he whispered again. Right after that, the darkness came again.

  
_When I awoke_   
_The moon still hung._ _  
The night so black that the darkness hummed_

 

When he awoke, the darkness greeted him again like an old friend. His mind was still in haze, his skin scorching like the sun was trying to burn him alive, but still ice cold inside. His face was pressed against something rough, something sharp and wet, soaked like his own skin. He could smell the moss, he could smell mug and old leaves, and trying to move his head he could _feel them_. He was somewhere in the woods. Old, broken leaves were under his body, and as soon as he opened his eyes and turned on his back again, the scratching noise of them broking even more under his limbs raised new bristle on his skin, forcing new long cold shivers down his spine.

His eyelids trembled again, but this time, he found enough strenght to open them, and his hazel eyes were greeting by the sudden silver light of the moon still hanging behind the trees, only little shining points able to surpass them. He blinked, and looked aroung.

Trees were surrounding him in every direction his eyes gazed, dark and scaring in that night. The moon couldn't help him down there; he was alone, exposed and vulnerable in front of whatever was hiding behind the trees. He tried to see something behind them, but nothing was visible. The night was so black, that his fears came alive, and the darkness hummed around him eerie rustles.

  
_I raised myself._   
_My legs were weak._   
_I prayed my mind be good to me._

 

He needed to move.

Whoever Scott was, he felt he had to help him. Danger was hiding in the trees, and he had to help in every way he could. _Stand up_ , he thought. He groaned in pain just trying to sit up, every single part of his body screaming in ache. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, his sight blurred and his head spinned around even more.

Fear clutched again his guts, a displeasing feeling inside his chest, telling him he was even worse than he thought. As he got on his knees, he licked his lips. Sweat and blood mixed their tastes on his tongue, a stinging pain burning his chapped lips. He took in a sharp breath, the pungent smells of the woods filling his lungs like hundreds of cold needles. He didn't like needles.

“Stand up”, he told himself again. With the last remains of his strenght, moved just by desperation, he stood up. His legs immediately wobbled unsteady, and he fell again on the ground. His mind fogged more; black points danced in his eyes, darkening his sight. His legs were weak, but he had to do it. He had to success.

As he got up again, his mind tried to force him down again with dizziness, but he held firm. He was going to do it. He just prayed his mind to clear, and be good to him.

  
_An awful noise_   
_Filled the air._ _  
I heard a scream in the woods somewhere._

 

He wanted to move.

Moving was good, he didn't give time to the fear to paralyze him there. His heart was pounding heavy in his ears and chest, pomping blood in a rushing race in his veins. He could almost hear it inside him, and that scared him. He blinked, eyelids still heavy, and focused his hazel eyes on the darkness in front of him. Was getting inside there a good idea? The bare dread clutching tight his lungs was of another opinion. He moved to search for the moon hiding behind the trees, but a noise halted him there.

An awful noise filled the air behind him. Was it near? It surely managed to make him shiver down to the bones, that displeasing feeling creeping up in him again. His eyes shutted close as he turned around, and pure and bare fear made him hesitate before opening them again. His wet, dirty hands twitched at his side. “Scott?”

Nothing was there. The noise repeated and he flinched, inhealing sharply, breath hitching in his throat. His soaked skin felt even cooler, the fever scorching his body couldn't help him from feeling less scared. He wasn't just scared. He was terrified. His eyes widened, his lips parted, and he tried to release the air inside him with a painful hiss. The noise didn't seem something coming from an animal. No, it was not.

It was a scream. A scream, there, in the woods somewhere.

  
_A woman's voice!_   
_I quickly ran_ _  
Into the trees with empty hands._

 

The scream sounded again.

It was a shriek. And the voice. It was a woman's voice. No, a _banshee_ 's. It was... “Lydia!”

Dread and grief creeped up inside him in a cold heinous flow, and he found himself hardly breathing, blood rushing inside his ears and lungs clutching unpleasantly at those sensations. Danger's feeling rested in his guts, like an hissing snake ready to attack, and his sight blurred with tears. As the shriek repeated, he moved.

He ran into the trees, faster and highed than he could, heading in the shriek's direction. Lydia – who was she? – was in danger, and the nearer he got to her, the more erratic his breathing became, until the air was barely filling his lungs, scratching his throat with sharp invisible nails. His head was heavy, his mind fogged, his sight blurred. A pair of tears mixed with the sweat and the dirt on his cheek. He had no weapon, he was unarmed, yet he ran there, even if with empty hands. As soon as he got into the place he heard the shriek come, he could clearly smell blood. Not his, someone's else.

“Lydia?”, he repeated. She was nowhere to be seen. What was with the scream again, then? Had he just imagine it? Was it an hallucination? But there, in that small place where the trees retired enough to let the moon steal peeks down there with its silver rays... There, there was blood. Dark, fresh blood, coming from something on the ground.

He looked at it, and his own blood ran away from his face, dizziness gripping him again.

  
_A fox it was,_   
_He shook afraid._ _  
I spoke no words, no sound he made._

 

An animal was there on the leaves, staining them with its blood. Chest rising and descending faster in erratic breathing, not enough air in it, not enough time to recover, not enough strenght to go away. It was a fox.

He shook afraid. Faltering in silent whimpers on the gound, its limbs twitching with pain, his mouth opened with the red tongue outside. As he dropped on his knees, the fox jumped slightly, but didn't move away. It couldn't move.

Not like that.

As he saw his bright blue eyes, then, he found out that no, it wasn't either a fox. It was a coyote. A coyote with blue eyes and grey fur, the same fear he felt in his face in its muzzle. He waited for the coyote to move, to make any kind of sound, but nothing came. His sight was constantly blurry now, and he knew why. He was crying.

The coyote looked at him, looked at the tears cleaning his dirty face, yet it stayed silent. Just a new word wrote itself in his mind, and his lips moved to whisper it, but nothing came.

His lips said “Malia”, but he spoke no words. Nor a sound it made.

  
_His bone exposed,_   
_His hind was lame._ _  
I raised a stone to end his pain._

He let his eyes travel on the coyote's body, and they halted at its wound, red shining bright in the silver low light of the moon behind the trees, and he had to suppress a whine in the back of his throat. The wound was horrible, and it made shivers rolling down his spine, chilling him to the bone with dread and desperation.

Blood was still gushing from it, spilling more with every breath taken in by the animal, and he tried to think about how much pain it was causing inside the little body at his knees. His hind was lame, fresh flesh open and ripped apart, showing the white bones to the cold air of the night, giving the moon over them a show no one could erase easily from his mind. Not him, for sure.

He bit his lips and looked away from the wound, his heart beating so fast he felt he was dying with the animal itself. He decided to look again at those bright blue eyes, and regretted his choice soon after.

He could read the pain inside those irises. He could read the haunt behind them, the fear, the sorrow. The struggle behind them was unbearable, so he decided to focus on the only thing he could help. The silent pleading.

He shutted his eyes again, an almost silent whine in his throat, and looked away to search for something useful. As soon as he found it, he closed his fingers around it and pointed his hazel eyes into the bright blue ones again, then nodded. The coyote relaxed, closed his eyes.

And he raised a stone to end his pain.

  
_What caused the wound?_   
_How large the teeth?_ _  
I saw new eyes were watching me._

 

The coyote stopped breathing. Now his skin was dirty again, wet with something different than sweat and rain, filthier than mug. He looked at his hands covered in blood and blinked fast, trying to make that vision faint, and he breathed erratingly, forcing himself to stop crying.

He thought about those names again. Scott. Lydia. Malia.

He had to find them. He had to get back to them. He prayed to join them.

Who were they? His friends? Were they in danger, just like the coyote? Was _he_ in danger?

“Yes”, he heard himself whisper. He was in danger too. Something, _someone_ , was threating his life like nothing else before. That probably attacked the animal, now dead on his knees. What kind of creature was that? How big it was? How large were the teeth? It was capable to devour and rip apart that coyote, and he felt the fear tighten his grip on him. He swallowed hard, watery eyes and erratic breath. He licked his lips again, and the taste of blood was stronger this time.

He had to go away from there. That was the reason he pressed his hands again in the bloody pool under him, so he could stand up. But as soon as he did, the sound of an heavy breath reached his ears, and he felt dread paralyzing him.

Slowly, he looked up in front of him. The blood in his veins froze.

He saw that new eyes were watching him.

  
_The creature lunged._   
_I turned and ran_ _  
To save a life I didn't have._

 

The first thought that came into his mind was _run_ . But he couldn't move, he was completely paralyzed. The eyes that were watching him were bright like the coyote's eyes as well, but these... these were red. Red like rage, brighter than fire, and he felt the dread stronger than ever. _Move, move, move, run away!_

He closed his hands in fist, and that was all. Still no movement. He had to find the strenght to turn and hide, to outrun the monster in front of him, the owner of those hell eyes, before the monster itself could step into the low light of the moon and eat him alive. His heart was racing into his chest, his blood came to life again and pomped into his veins with scorching force, eyes steady on the dark figure widened with terror. He started to cry again, displeased.

“This is a dream”, he whined, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips nervously. “This is just a dream.”

The monster could smell his fear. Could smell his stress, his struggle, his desperation. And when it lunged forward, a metre from him, he could smell clearly the adrenaline suddenly inside his body, the same adrenaline that made him snap. He turned and ran to save his life. A life that in that dream, he didn't have. He didn't feel like having.

  
_Dear, in the chase_   
_There as I flew_ _  
Forgot all prayers of joining you_.

 

He was being chased.

He felt that in the cold thin air around him, whiping his face itself instead of the branches of the trees around him. The beast was right behind him, playing with his prey, letting him run away with the hope of salvation. He could hear his growls, his howls, and couldn't but see again those bright red eyes inside his head, so clear in his hazing mind it was like those irises were being printed on his. Heart pounding in his chest and ears, he prayed to be save, and in that chase, he forgot whoever he was searching for.

“This is just a dream.”

Probably they were dead, just like the coyote, who he killed himself. He didn't want to die. He wanted to keep feeling the adrenaline running in his veins, he wanted to feel that fear, that desperation over and over again, because that meant he was _alive_.

“A dream.”

He forgot all prayers of joining them. He forgot his friends.

  
_I clutched my life_   
_And wished it kept._ _  
My dearest love I'm not done yet_

 

He tripped over and fell on the ground.

His palms scratched on the hard earth, burned, and he got dizzy again, bumping his head against it. That was it. The chase was over. He turned around and the beast stand in front of him, just a couple of metres away. “This is just a fucking dream”, he said again. Maybe he could convince himself before dying.

He turned on his back, and drew back with the support of his hands. The beast stepped forward. “Then wake up”, he whined. Sight blurred with tears, the only thing clear in that mess were the flaming red eyes. “Wake up, wake up, _wake up_!”

The beast growled, and he hit a tree with his back. He cringed down the closer it came to him. “No”, he whispered. He clutched his life with all his willing, with all his strenght and desperation, wishing it kept, wishing it was enough. “No, please, no!”

It _had_ to be enough. He wasn't done yet. No, he wasn't done, he wasn't done at all, he wanted to life, to remember, to erase that blood on his hands, to break the fever, to find his friends. He wasn't done. “Wake up, wake up, wake...”

And that was his thoughts as the beast climbed on top of him, its forelegs at the side of his head, its teeth just inches from his throat. He cried out, his eyes fluttering close. His heart was pounding fast, it didn't want to stop as well. The fear tighten his grip on him as hotter the breath on his face became.

When the beast roared at the top of its lungs in front of his face, he screamed the same, crying out all his pain. “ _WAKE UP!_ ”

 

_How many years_   
_I know I'll bear_   
_I found something in the woods somewhere._

 

“ _STILES!_ ”

He screamed, his lungs empty and burning in pain, needing air. He was crying aloud, and someone was holding him tightly with an arm around his chest, the other on his waist. Arms. Hands. Fingers. That someone was human. And the best was nowhere to be seen.

“Stiles. Stiles, calm down”, that voice whispered again, making him cringe inside. “Stiles, it's okay now. It's okay. You're safe.”

As soon as he stopped screaming, the man who was holding him let him go. When he turned around, he cried again, his eyes locked with Scott's. The guy held him by his shoulders; he told him he found him on the ground, just outside the woods. As soon as he tried to wake him up, he began to scream like someone was maiming him alive. Scott, then, asked the only question he didn't want to hear. “What happened?”

He looked at his friend with wet eyes. He could tell him it was a dream. He could tell him he just walked around while sleeping, till there. But Scott was covered in blood, wounded just like he came out from a fight. Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Malia was... He blinked, and tears streamed down his cheeks. How many years still? How many year did he know he could bear?

“Stiles, what happened?”

He looked at Scott, then at his hands. The blood was beginning to dry. He whimpered, crouched and tried to hide from himself, from his friend, praying that the ground would swallow him alive. “I found something”, he sobbed. “I found something in the woods. Somewhere.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It is a bit nonsense maybe, but I just wanted to write it. I tried to made it scaring and anxious. Let me know what do you think about it, every kind of feedbacks is appreciated!


End file.
